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KUXEHAI. SERMON. 



OUiTI , NO'J.'ES. 



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A DISCOURSE 



DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF 



HOK SOLOMON FOOT, 



IK THE 



CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, 



RUTLAND, VT., APRIL 3, 1866. 



BY \\m, NORMAN SEAVER, 

PASTOR OF THE CHURCH. 



EUTLAND : 

TUTTLE, GAY & COMPANY. 

1866. 



^4 IS 






SERMON. 



TEXT — Isaiah III : 1-3. — For behold the Lord, the Lord of hosts, doth take away from 
Jerusalem and from Judah, the honorable man, the counsellor, and the elo(iuent 
orator. 

In the last verse of the preceding chapter, the prophet had 
called upon the people to cease from man, whose breath was in 
his nostrils, that is, he had warned them against trusting in any 
human protection, and against regarding with an idolatrous 
confidence the high endowments of created mind. In the text 
he brings forward the reason why they should thus return to a 
simple faith in God, as their only hope and stay. And he 
grounds his argument upon the fact that God was about to 
deprive them of those various created means of support and 
protection upon which they had so inconsiderately relied, the 
men of illustrious station and pre-eminent intellect, who in their 
estimation stood firm and dazzling as the resplendent bulwarks 
of their land. The Lord was about to take away from Judah 
and from Jerusalem the honorable man, the counsellor, and the 
eloquent orator. Such is the meaning of the text. Thus did the 
Prophet teach the Jewish people of old, thus does God teach us 
to-day, that there is a power above all human power upon which 
they and we are alike dependent, and that man, whatever his 
wisdom in counsel, his dignity of mind, his influence of char- 
acter, his force of speech, was after all a creature who must 
pass away, while the Creator only endures from everlasting to 
everlasting. 

Every death enforces this lesson, but to-day, in the midst of 
general gloom, which overshadows this community, it is per- 



haps taught with peculiar emphasis. Not that the idea of death 
is unfamiliar to our minds, not that every week does not with 
tolling bell and passing hearse remind us of our mortality. 
But because to-day a common calamity has overtaken an illus- 
trious victim, because to-day one has fallen beneath whose 
superior wisdom and influence we found shelter and comfort, — 
because to-day we look for the last time upon the face of him, 
whom living we delighted to honor, and to whom our hearts 
ever went forth in admiration and regard. It is not a bud just 
opening in life which death to-day takes from us, — it is not an 
autumn leaf shaken by the blast of mortality, and noiselessly 
dropping to its last resting place, but it is to-day a giant of the 
forest, which falls prostrate to the earth, leaving a gap and ruin 
where once it stood erect, commanding, beneficent. It is the 
hoaorable man, the counsellor, the eloquent oratcr, whom the 
Lord, the Lord of hosts to-day takes away from Judah and 
Jerusalem, from our own State, and our common country. 

I know not what may be done or spoken elsewhere in regard 
to the departure from this life of that illustrious, and honored, 
and beloved citizen, whom we in the community were so proud 
to cull our friend and neighbor, our representative ; but this I 
know, that we are all unwilling that he should pass away from 
us never to return, and that his dust should be laid down to 
mingle with that of sainted kindred, beneath the shadow of these 
hills which he so much loved, without some recognition of our 
personal loss, without some words of tender feeling, some 
expressions of reverence for his memory, some offerings of praise 
and thanksgiving to God for the excellent gifts of head and 
heart with which He was pleased to endow him, without some 
mention of the debt of gratitude under which he laid this com- 
munity for the public services of a quarter of a century as an 
honorable man and an unspotted counsellor. 

What he was in the wider and more public sphere of human 
action, what he was in the councils of the nation, in which he 
so long took a part, and over which he so often and so ably pre- 
sided, — what he was in the arena of debate, when master minds 
with grand emulation contend together for the country's good. 



we leave to the abler tongues of his peers and equals to rehearse, 
but what he was as he went in and out among us, as he met us 
in our streets and forum, with warm heart and welcoming hand, 
as from time to time he spoke to us words of counsel and wis- 
dom, as in days of trial and distress we went to him for aid and 
comfort and came back cheered and strengthened, — this, as his 
friends, neighbors, constituents, in homely but hearty speech we 
desire to somewhat tell ere the grave hides him from our sight 
forever. True, no words of ours can break death's silence, — no 
approbation of ours can quicken with the glow of well earned 
praise that heart now still and cold, — true, all our applause is 
now to him valueless and worthless, and yet speak we must, not 
for his sake but for ours, — not for his glory, but for our own 
comfort. Among the costlier wreaths that adorn his last repose, 
we would lay a garland of simpler flowers from his own hills 
and vales, — among the expressions of national sorrow we would 
blend the humbler but not less sincere voices of our own private 
grief, as we stand to-day for the last time around that form, 
which we have seen so often, but which soon we shall see no more. 

I. An honorable man. Solomon Foot was an honored man 
We honored him because he was, what to New England think- 
ing is more honorable than any transmitted nobility, because he 
was a self made man. He wore the purple, he was not born 
in it. It has been alleged against us as a people that we praise 
too highly our successful men. But with us success means 
something ; it is the result not of the accidents or providences of 
birth, but the righteous meed of individual desert. We do not 
say that the best men are the most successful, but this we do say, 
that no man succeeds in public life in America upon any other 
ground than his own personal merits, and of those merits, that 
success is certainly one although not the only exponent. 

That a man should have sat as a member of the British 
House of Commons for eighteen years, would mean in the great 
majority of instances, that the person uudci" consideration was 
allied by blood or politics to one of the thirty great families of 
England, who return as a matter of course, from the boroughs 
under their control, one-half of tiie legislators of that realm. 



^giKlU 



But that in America a man should have filled prominent places 
for eighteen years in our two national legislative bodies, means 
that divested of all fictitious circumstances of birth and standing, 
he had been weighed in the naked individuality of heart and 
brain in the balances of a people's needs and had been found 
sufficient. 

Success with us then means something. It means thouoht, it 
means intellect, it means brains, it means energy, it means per- 
severance. It means the preference of duty to pleasure, it 
means the postponement of present gratification to the attainment 
of future good, — it means striving on after the ideal of excel- 
lence, instead of sinking down in luxurious indolence, contented 
with mediocrity, if it will only give us a living. To my think- 
ing then we do right in praising success and in honoring suc- 
cessful men. We do right, we did right, in honoring Solomon 
Foot. He began life a poor boy in yonder parish ; he is followed 
to his grave to-day by the regrets of thousands. It may be said 
of him, as in his last public utterance he said of Judge Collamer, 
that like most of the distinguished men of our time and our 
country, Solomon Foot was emphatically the author and arbiter 
of his own fortunes. He owed nothing at all to the factitious 
aids or accidental circumstances of birth or fortune or family 
patronage. Under God he made his own name and his own 
fortunes. With his own hands he cleared up the rugged path- 
way, which led him up to the entrance door of the temple of 
honor and renown. If the poet be right when he affirms, 

" The fame which a man wins for himself is best, that he may call his own," 

Then this best of earthly glories was Solomon Foot's. We 
would not divest him of it to-day, — we would rather reverentially 
wrap it around him, as a well earned robe of merited honor. 

II. An honorable man. Solomon Foot was honored by us as 
an honest man. His success was not purchaced at the price of 
conscience and honor. His distinction was not a gilded infamy. 
He had never learned even the alphabet of political trickery. 
He never trimmed the vessel, and set the sails, and handled the 
helm to catch the breezes of popular favor. Ever wise, calm, 
moderate in action, he was singularly free, bold, outspoken in 



his likes and dislikes, his opinions and even his prejudices. If 
the public good and a large prudence enjoined silence, he was 
still, but no merely personal considerations ever held him back 
from declaring the honest convictions of his heart. To that 
polite dissimulation which argrees with every one and dissents 
from none he was a stranger. He would not practice it if he 
could, he could not if he would. 

Such a man does not win popularity so soon as some of another 
stamp, but having won it he retains it much longer. And it 
speaks well for the keen intelligence and Yankee mother wit of 
the people of Vermont, that they chose as their representative to 
the highest council of the nation, during three successive terms, 
not some adroit demagogue, now noisy and subservient, but 
a frank, outspoken, honest man. And in this choice virtue 
brought its own reward. If the greatest misery, the most sting- 
ing shame, the darkest of horrors to a true hearted citizen be 
the incompetency of his rulers and the turpitude of his legisla- 
tors, — if this be, as who shall doubt it is, a woe more terrible 
than war, with its shouting invaders and its garments rolled in 
blood, — more terrible than the destruction that wasteth at noon- 
day and the pestilence that walketh in darkness, — so also on the 
other hand is it true that to the private patriot, the greatest 
earthly solace is to feel that those to whom by his ballot he has 
given the keeping of the lives, property, glory of himself, his 
children, his fellow citizens, his country, are in every way wor- 
thy of that sacred trust. And this high satisfaction, this serene 
confidence, this sure and sweet repose, these have been ours for 
fourteen jears, these would have been ours as long as Solomon 
Foot lived as our Senator in Congress. Whoever else might 
waver, he, we knew, would stand firm, — whoever else might be 
bought and sold, he, we knew, was incorruptible, — whoever else 
might stain their senatorial robes by open debauchery or secret 
vice, he, we knew, was as unspotted in his private life and in the 
presence of his God as he was in his public ofiice and the sight 
of men. During the terrible struggles of the last five years, 
who of us has not laid his head upon his pillow at night and 
slept the more calmly, when he thought that that grand old man 



8 

stood at his post as our representative, and through his lips the 
voice of the freemen of Vermont would find clear and authorita- 
tive utterance that there should be no compromise with traitors. 
I have read in ancient story that when the tyrant Scylla made 
himself master of Rome and expelled his enemies, he summoned 
the Senate to meet, and coming with an armed force, demanded 
that they should declare his rival a foe, and himself a friend to 
Rome. In solemn silence sat that grave assembly, until at last 
the oldest of their number, Quintius Sca^vola, being pressed to 
declare his mind, and being terribly threatened by Scylla if he 
showed any reluctance, spoke as follows : " Though, Scylla, 
thou thinkest to terrify me with thy armed troops which have 
invaded the Senate House, and have threatened me with death 
itself, yet I scorn to save a little superannuated blood by pro- 
nouncing Marius an enemy to the state, and by welcoming thee, 
who art a traitor." And so also when Lee beleaguered Wash- 
ington, if they, who were then endeavoring to attain by force, 
what they may yet attain by fraud, had captured our imperial 
city, — if the myrmidons of rebellion had broken into the sacred 
chamber of the fathers of our country, we know that Solomon 
Foot would have been hewed in pieces, limb from limb, ere he 
would have left the Senate chair of Vermont to be occupied by 
a traitor. 

An event occurred in his last hours of touching pathos and 
singular fitness. He asked to be raised from his dying couch 
that once more he might look upon the Capitol. That edifice 
was dear to him, not only because of his official connection with 
its extension and adornment, not only, but perhaps chiefly, 
because it was the symbol of his country's welfare and glory, 
but because also it was the scene of the labors of his life's best 
years and noblest powers. To other men in such an hour the 
sight of that edifice might have been unwelcome, — it might 
have confronted them like an accusing witness, — it might have 
testified to the ear of conscience of indolence, of cowardice, of 
debauchery, of treachery, of corruption. But to him the sight 
brought no such harrowing recollections. His dying gaze could 
rest upon it with calm satisfaction, assured that during his 



9 

eighteen years of service its walls had witnessed no unworthy- 
deed, and had never echoed to any unworthy word. Unruffled 
and composed he could look upon those fair walls and stately 
columns until the mists of death hid from his view all earthly 
glories, but disclosed to his soul's senses those beautiful gates of 
pearl through which, by a Savior's merits, we hope his soul has 
now entered. His funeral escutcheon is an unspotted cne, we 
honored him while living, we honor him in death, because he 
was an honest man. 

III. An honorable man. We honored Solomon Foot because 
of his warm heart. Pure affections are always honorable. 
Emotion is that touch of nature which makes the whole world 
kin. We respect true feeling even in the ignorant boor. But 
when we find warm affections conjoined with commanding intel- 
lect we bow before them with peculiar reverence. Such affec- 
tions bring down their possess^or from those superior heights of 
intellect on which he stands, into the plane of our sympathies 
and regards. But such affections do not therefore degrade the 
possessor, they only raise him to the throne of our hearts. Of 
all the portraits of our loved Lincoln there is none on which 
the true American will look with deeper reverence than that 
which portrays him seated in a chair with an open volume on 
his knees, Avhile at his side stands little Thad. Napoleon looks 
not so kingly in David's picture of him as he appeared in his 
coronation robes at St. Cloud's, as in that other representation, 
as he sits upon a sofa in his library while upon his lap slumbers 
the infant king of Rome. Warm affections throw a robe of 
dignity round the humblest peasant, they become the throned 
monarch better than his crown. Never did Queen Victoria rule 
her subjects with so absolue a sv/ay as when in the chapel at 
Windsor, over the tomb opened to receive the body of her con- 
sort fell thick and fast the scalding tears of her recent widow- 
hood. Not a sword in England that would not then have 
leaped from the scabbard for her defence, not a head that would 
not have bowed before her with reverence. And this honor 
which the warm affections of high and noble natures merit and 
receive, this honor was the meed of our departed friend. Had 



10 

he been only a man of commanding intellect and spotless integ- 
rity, we might have admired him, we might have been proud of 
him, but we should not so have loved him while living, we 
should not mourn him so when dead. A successful man himself, 
how many unsuccessful men has he helped and succored ; strong 
and resolute himself, how many weak and timid ones has he 
cheered and strengthened ; asking no quarter himself of any 
man, how often has he redressed other's wrongs ; reserving no 
favors for himself, how often has he used his influence to obtain 
boons for others. What success was ever his, which did not 
benefit others more than himself, what power did he ever attain, 
whose fruits and rewards the humblest of his constituency, if 
needy and deserving, did not share and enjoy? To how many 
has his kind, strong hand been stretched out to help, to how 
many has that great, warm heart beat responsive to the tale of 
their woes and sorrows. For counsel, for alms, for help, for 
sympathy, in years gone by we went to Mr. Foot, — in years to 
come, whither shall we go ? How during the last winter in 
speaking of some plan for public good, and asking the time of 
its accomplishment, how often has come back the answer. When 
Mr. Foot returns from Washington. He has come back from 
Washington, but it is for the first time to be ministered unto, 
not to minister unto others. When Solomon Foot died, a great, 
warm heart ceased to beat. 

IV. An honorable man. We honored Solomon Foot for his 
public spirit, his elevated patriotism. Were I asked to select the 
most striking trait in his character I should point to this. Oth- 
ers may have expressed patriotism with greater force of diction, 
with more fervid imagery, with more magnetic power to beget 
the same sentiment in others than Mr. Foot, but none ever lived 
it more thoroughly, more constantly than he. There is many an 
orator whose eloquent raphsodies of patriotism will be spoken 
with delight by the schoolboys of many generations, who for 
true public spirit is unworthy to be named in the same day with 
Mr. Foot. Others may have braced themselves up for the great 
effort of patriotism under the influence of some mighty motive, 
and the stimulus of some grand occasion, but our Senator laid 



11 

himself, soul and body, a living sacrifice upon the altars of his 
country every day. He seemed to have forgotten, he did forget, 
individual ease, comfort, emolument, honor, in the public good, 
the public wealth, the public glory. And hence sprung some 
beautiful and noble contrasts, some grand paradoxes in his con- 
dition. On the one hand, he owned not, so far as I know, a 
foot of land, save only that little spot, where is reared his first 
and last mansion upon earth, and to which on the morrow we 
shall bear him. On the other hand, the whole State of Vermont 
was his, for there was hardly in all her borders a hill or rock or 
stream, which he did not know and love, as other men love their 
broad acres. His homestead was this old Green Mountain State. 
On the one hand he was poor, — poorer than any man in all the 
Commonwealth perhaps, of the same talents, the same opportu- 
nities, the same frugality and prudence, and on the other hand 
he was richer than us all. For there was no man's well earned 
wealth in which he did not rejoice, there was no fertile farm to 
which he did not point with a warm glow of pride, there was 
no stately mansion, no busy factory resounding with the hum of 
labor, on which he did not look with personal satisfaction and 
feel a personal interest and delight. On the one hand he was 
childless, and on the other many were his sons and daughters, 
whom he cherished, counseled, strengthened, loved. Citizens 
of Vermont, whether you loved him or not, this man loved you, — 
he loved your hills, your streams, your fields, your forests, yonr 
schools, your churches, yourselves. To him no sky was so 
blue, no water so sweet and pure, no hills so sublime and beau- 
tiful, no vales so lovely and fertile, no men so good and true 
and brave, as those of his own native state. On themes like 
these he would speak with imagination's glow and youth's 
enthusiasm. Personal abuse he would perhaps have overlooked 
in silence, but touch the honor of his state with but one single 
finger and you had waked a giant. 

You remember now, we all remember, how in his last address 
to his townsmen he made a vow of personal consecration to the 
public weal, — you remember how he told us that there was not 
a nerve, a muscle, an atom of flesh, a drop of blood, which he 



12 

would not spend for your welfare and the public good. In the 
mouth of another man, this might have been only the rhetori- 
cian's flourish, only the demagogue's bid for popular applause, 
but on his lips it was the truthful record of his past services, it 
was the prophecy of their continuance even to the end. 

That vow was kept, that prophecy was fulfilled. That brain, 
that blood, that heart, that life, has been now all spent for us. 
He kept nothing back. We saw with pain when last among us 
that constant care and toil were beginning to bow and shake that 
erect and noble form. He might thea have resigned his office 
unspotted, and have enjoyed an honorable, hearty, hale old age. 
He might have claimed exemption from further duties to the 
state in view of the services of a quarter of a century. He 
might then have realized Avhat seemed to be almost his only per- 
sonal wish, he might have built himself a home here in our vil- 
lage, and have dwelt here among his own citizens, loved and 
loving. Who could have blamed him if he had, but to have 
done so would not have been Solomon Foot. Ko, his 
state bad bound around him for the third time the Senatorial 
rcbe, and he went forth to wear it, until death should tear it 
fiom him. And so he still toiled on, weaving in his last 
public utterance a wreath of cypress and laurel for his colleague, 
Jacob Collamer, pa^- nobile fratrum^ toiled on, superintending 
the arrangements for the due observance of the anniversary 
birthday of Abraham Lincoln, towards whom he felt that love 
which knits together kindred noble souls, — toiled on in his Sena- 
torial duties, voting for the people of Vermont on the great 
questions of the day, toiled on till tired brain and burdened 
heart and exhausted frame refused their oflSce, and then, and not 
till then, be laid himself down to rest in Jesus, leaving this last 
request to earth, that he might be carried home to that people 
who had so honored him, and whom he had tried to honor, that 
he might be buried by them and among them. 

To grant that request we are now assembled. We lay first 
upon the coffined dead this simple wreath of amaranths from his 
own hills, these homely but hearty words of our love and rever- 
ence, and then we bear him forth to his chosen resting place. 



13 

And there, by the side of sainted kindred, there in the center of 
the state of which he was proud, and which was proud of him, 
there in the midst of that thriving village whose welfare was ever 
so dear to him, — there beneath the shadow of those grand old 
mountains, which he so much loved, there where the breezes 
of his own native land chant among the sentinel pines his 
requiem, there we give his dust into the keeping of Almighty 
God, his Savior. 

As population increases, that city of the dead, now thinly 
settled, may become thronged and crowded. But many times 
must the winter's snow spread there its white winding sheet, 
many times must the summer's sunshine gild with reverential 
glory its tombs and monuments, many times must Autumn hang 
out on yonder hillside its crimson banners, ere we or our child- 
ren shall bear thitherward one who in all the qualities of head 
and heart, in intellect, in integrity, in affection, in patriotism, 
shall be the peer and equal of him whom God to-day takes from 
us, — our honorable man, our unstained counsellor. 



APPENDIX. 



IN MEMORIAM. 



CITIZEN'S MEETING. 

On the reception of the melancholy intelligence of the death 
of Mr. Foot, in pursuance of a call published in the Daily Her- 
ald, the citizens of Rutland met at the Court House on the 30th 
day of March, A. D. 1866, for the purpose of making suitable 
arrangements for the reception of the remains of their lamented 
friend and fellow citizen ; and were called to order by Hon. 
John B. Page. 

On motion, Hon. Luther Daniels was appointed Chairman, 
and Chauncy K. Williams, Secretary. 

The object of the meeting having been briefly and feelingly 
stated by the Hon. John B. Page, 

On motion, a Committee of thirteen was appointed by the 
Chair to make suitable arrangements for the reception of the 
remains, and for the funeral of the late Senator Foot, consisting 
of the following gentlemen : 

Hon. John B. Page, 

Col. George A. Merrill, 

Geo. a. Tuttle, Esq., 

Hon. Walter C. Dunton, 

John Cain, Esq., 

James Merrell, Esq., 

Gen. Wm. Y. W. Ripley, 

Hon. Seneca M. Dorr, 

Col. Wm. T. Nichols, 

Capt. Edmund A. Morse, 

Hon. Wm. M. Field, 

Jacob Edgerton, Esq., 

Hon. Martin G. Everts. 



18 

At a subsequent meeting of the Committee, arrangements were 
made for closing all places of business in the village, during the 
afternoon of Saturday, the 31st of March, at which time the 
remains were expected to arrive, and also on Monday, the 2d 
day of April, being the day set apart for the funeral ceremonies. 

Hon. John B. Page, Gen. Wm. Y. W. Ripley, George A. 
Tdttle, Esq., John Cain, Esq., and Col. Wm. T. Nichols, 
were appointed a sub-committee, to meet the remains at the New 
York State line and escort them to Rutland. 



The gentlemen from Rutland designated as a Committee to 
meet the remains and accompanying delegation at the State line, 
took the train on the Rutland and Washington Railroad at 11.15 
A. M., on Saturday, the 31st of March, for Salem, and there 
awaited the train, which arrived at 3.40 P. M., having on board 
the Senate Committee, consisting of Hon. Luke P. Poland of 
Vermont, Hon. J. R. Doolittle of Wisconsin, and Hon. G. R. 
Riddle of Delaware, and Mr. A. P. Gorman, Acting Sergeant- 
at-Arras, and the family and friends of the deceased. They 
were joined at Salem by the delegation from Rutland. 

Before the arrival of the train at Rutland, a very large 
concourse of the citizens of Rutland and the adjoining towns 
had assembled at the depot, and awaited its approach in silence 
ftnd with bowed heads, anxious by every suitable demonstration 
to pay their respects and to testify their grief. 

Upon the arrival of the train, the remains, enclosed in a beau- 
tiful casket, were transferred to a hearse, drawn by four white 
horses, finely caparisoned, with white plumes on their heads. 
The Committees and friends were provided with carriages, and 
a procession was formed under the direction of Col. W. G. 
Veazey, Chief Marshal. Though the rain was falling, a large 
multitude of people joined the procession, which took up its line 
of march for the United States Court Room, which had been 
beautifully fitted up to receive the remains, there to lie in state 
until the funeral. 

Upon the arrival of the procession at the Court House, the 



19 

remains were taken from the hearse and borne into the Court 
Room, followed by the Senatorial Committee, the Committee of 
Arrangements, and the relatives and friends. Upon entering 
the room, the choir, which occupied the gallery, sang an appro- 
priate and impressive anthem, after which Senator Doolitle, on 
being introduced by Senator Poland, addressed the Committee : 

SENATOR Poland's introductory remarks. 

Mr. Chairman and Friends : We come to you in the per- 
formance of a sad and melancholy duly. I come nominally as 
the Chairman of a Committee of the Senate of the United States, 
appointed to attend the remains of our deceased brother, and 
your townsman and friend, the honorable Solomon Foot, to 
his State and home. But the real character in which I come is 
that of one of his mourners, and I believe I can most truly say 
that aside from those closely connected to him by the ties of kin- 
dred, there is no one who more sincerely mourns his loss, or 
feels more deeply the bereavement caused by his death than I do. 

The feeling of grief is too deep and personal to allow me to 
properly express myself upon this occasion, and I have therefore 
requested one of my colleagues of the Committee, Senator Doo- 
little of Wisconsin, to act as the organ of the Committee in 
communicating our sad message to you. 

remarks of senator doolittle. 

3Ir. Chairman and Gentlemen of the Committee : As my col- 
league upon the Committee has truly said, we have come upon a 
sad errand. We have been commissioned by the Senate of the 
United States to bear home to Vermont all that is mortal of 
Solomon Foot. These remains, this precious dust, will now 
pass from our charge, as a Committee of the Senate, to you, as 
representing the people of his native State. It is no time or 
place for eulogy. Our hearts are too full for that. A great 
sorrow has fallen upon the Senate, and upon the whole country, 
as well as upon Vermont. That he was distinguished as a 
Statesman and Senator, all the world knows ; but what I desire 
to say, and what my heart most prompts me to say, is, not that 



20 

he was distinguished, honored and respected, but that he was 
beloved by every member of the Senate, of every political party. 
All were his personal friends. Enemies he had none. The 
oldest member of the body in continuous service, he was revered 
as the father of the Senate. Often called upon to be its pre- 
siding officer, and always watchful of its honor, he did more than 
any other to preserve its dignity and decorum. But he has left 
the Senate. His place we cannot fill. His like we may not look 
upon. 

Gentlemen : Here in that coffin is his lifeless body. We 
commit it to your charge. Our mission in behalf of the Senace 
is fulfilled ; our sad, but sacred office performed ; our work done. 
We are now ready to return. 

But, I cannot take leave of yon without saying that I am here 
in another character, and as the bearer of another message from 
him, as a dying man, to you, the people of Rutland and Ver- 
mont. Bear in mind that for more than eight years we had been 
in constant, daily, political and friendly intercourse, a part of 
the time lodging under the same roof, and most of the time sit- 
ting at the same table. He was to me like a father or an elder 
brother. In these intimate relations I came to know him well, 
and to love him more. 

But I did not know how much I loved him until, standing at 
his bedside, the dying man stretched out his hand, and clasping 
mine in his, said : " Dear brother, you have always been kind 
to me — a dear, good, brother Senator. I can never reward you ; 
but you know where your reward lies." I could not speak. 
But he continued in a clear and distinct voice, while his face 
beamed with a heavenly light, to speak of the religion 
of the gospel, and of its consolations in sickness and in 
health. Among other things, I remember he said: "The mercy 
of God has been very great to me during this sickness. I have 
so many kind friends ; like so many angelic ministers, all around 
me. It seems as though a company of angels were all about 
me, to bear up my sinking spirit." 

Then, after a pause, he said, " I have been trying to recall if 
there is any human being upon earth, whom I have intentionally 



21 



wronged or injured. I do not now remember any ; but if there 
be any, I pray that God will forgive me." I will not attempt to 
tell you all he said. Before I left the room, however, he said, 
in the same clear voice, to another : "The Lord reigns ; let the 
earth rejoice ! It is well that He does reign ; and the people 
have reason to rejoice that He does reign. Yes, God reigns 
over all ; there can be no doubt of that. "We do not come into 
this world by mere chance ; we are not creatures of accident. 
We are born to an eternal life." Here he paused a few moments, 
and then uttered that dying message which I now bear to you. 
" When I leave this chamber," said he, "I wish no parade, no 
ostentatious demonstrations to be made ; only the ordinary pro- 
ceedings which custom and propriety impose ; I desire to be 
borne to my friends and home in Rutland, Vermont — a people 
who have always been faithful to me — more faithful to me than 
I have been to them, I fear. They have done so much for me. 
I have no house there, but they will provide everything needful, 
and there, by them, among that people, let me be buried." 

This is the message which I bring to you from your dying friend. 

I was not present when he breathed his last ; but from the 
account which I received immediately after from those who were 
present, his consciousness remained clear to the last, and his 
utterance distinct, almost to the very last breath. In his last 
words, distinctly uttered, he left another message, which speaks 
not only to you and to me, but to all men, and for all time. In 
all history, I do not remember to have read of a dying christian 
whose last words were more touching, more heavenly and more 
triumphant over death and the grave. 

Seeing his time was at hand, the words of the 23d Psalm 
were then repeated to him by his wife. He called her to his 
side, folded his arms around her for a moment ; then, as bis 
breathing became more choked, he said: ""What? can this be 
death? so easy ? Is it come already ?" In a few moments after, 
with a face lighted up, as with a soul just entering into Paradise, 
he joyfully exclaimed ; " I see it ! I see it! The gates are wide 
open ! beautiful ! beautiful !" And in a very few moments after 
uttering these words he expired. 
3 



22 

As a Statesman and Senator we honor him ; as a man of noble 
character, we cherish his memory; as a true and faithful friend, 
we loved him ; and as a dying christian, what a glorious example 
has he left to all mankind ! 

COL. NICHOLS' REPLY. 

Col. W. T. Nichols, on behalf of the Committee of Arrange- 
ments, replied as follows : 

Mr. Chairman and Senators : The people of Vermont, through 
a Committee of the people of this town, accept the completion 
of the trust committed to your charge by the Senate of the 
United States, and receive at yuur hands the mortal remains of 
your distinguished colleague, and their honored and faithful rep- 
resentative. We receive what was mortal of our renowned and 
honored Senator, our worthy citizen, our valued friend, as a 
sacred trust committed to our keeping. "We receive the trust in 
sorrow, and will guard it tenderly. Your recital of the dying 
moments of the Hon. Solomon Foot fill our hearts too full for 
utterance in Avords. We mourn, and the people of Vermont are 
in mourning to-day, at the loss of one of our greatest and best men. 

You have been pleased to allude to the high and honorable 
position occupied while living by him whose shrouded form now 
lies before us. It is not fitting for me, at this hour and in this 
presence, to pronounce words of eulogy upon the character and 
public career of him who held for long years the tenderer, the 
nearer and dearer relation than that of a trusted and distin- 
guished representative in the highest branch of the national 
councils — the relation of a true and tried friend to the whole 
people ; but in justice to his memory it may be said that the 
people of the State, which he honored by his services and his 
blameless life, were not indifferent observers, nor ever unmindful 
that his usefulness, his name and fame, were national in extent; 
and, sir, while the honor of achieving such renown and influence 
was all his own, yet his State appropriated to itself an honest 
and unbounded pride in such a Senator, and claimed his name 
and fame for Vermont. You have brought his remains from the 
halls of the American Senate Chamber to the quiet retreat of 



23 

his chosen home among the mountains of his native State, and 
communicated to us his dying message of gratitude to the people 
of his State and his home. We thank you, and through you 
tender our thanks and appreciation to the Senate who committed 
this trust to you. We assure you that if his colleagues had 
learned to love and to honor him in his older and riper years, 
that the people who had known him earliest and longest honored 
and loved him best. And, sir, had there been any higher honor 
thau a seat in that grand areopagus of the American people — 
the Senate — the people of "Vermont would have placed him in 
that higher position had it been in their power to do so. 

We take his mortal remains from your hands, and in the spot 
of his own choosing, shall commit them to the earth — " dust to 
dust, and ashes to ashes ;" but, while it will be tenderly, sacredly 
done, it will be done sorrowfully, mournfully, tearfully. That 
done, we will chisel the granite shaft, solid, plain and simple, 
like his life and character, and strew his grave with the laurel 
and the cypress ; but in the respect and gratitude of the people 
of his home, a monument is already raised to his memory more 
enduring than the granite." 

At the close of Col. Nichols' remarks Rev. Dr. Aiken offered 
a fervent and appropriate prayer, when the Committees and 
friends i-etired, and the procession dispersed. 



PROCEEDINGS IN COURT. : 

At a meeting of the members of the Rutland County Bar, 
held at the Court House, on Wednesday, the 28th day of March, 
1866, Edwin Edgerton, Esq., was appointed Chairman. 

The death of the Hon. Solomon Foot having been announced, 
On motion, the Chair appointed as Committee on Resolutions : 

Hon. E. N. Briggs, of Brandon. 

R. R. Thrall, Esq., of Rutland. 

John Prout, Esq., of Rutland. 

Charles C. Dewey, Esq., of Rutland. 

Jerome B. Bromley, Esq., of Pawlet. 



24 

On motion, the same Committee were requested to make all 
necessary arrangements on the part of the members of the Bar 
for the funeral. 



At the assembling of the Court on the afternoon of Friday, 
the 30th day of March, his Honor, Loyal C. Kellogg, pre- 
siding, Mr. Dewey, in behalf of the Committee on Resolutions, 
presented the following memorial and resolutions, and moved 
I that they be entered upon the records of the Court: 

MEMORIAL. 

The Hon. Solomon Foot, long a distinguished member of 
this Bar, in the Providence of God has been removed by death, 
to our great bereavement and affliction : 

For many years he actively paticipated with much ability in 
the practice of the courts of this State : 

His public services as Speaker of the House of Representa- 
tives of his native State ; as a member of the National House 
ot Representatives, and as a United States Senator, justly enti- 
tled him to the high eminence he attained, and to the homage 
which he received from all his fellow citizens : 

His experience at the Bar, and especially in the councils of 
the State and Nation, was extensive and varied; his knowledge 
exact and comprehensive; his professional and public life was 
marked by great ability, integrity of character, and adhei-ence to 
principle ; in his private and social walks he was beloved by all 
who knew him, and virtue and benevolence shed their radiance 
in his way. Dying in the full hope of a blessed immortality, it 
befitted the close of such a life, that, in the moment of dissolu- 
tion, his entranced eyes should behold with seraphic vision the 
beautiful gates of the " temple not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens " : 

Thus deserving our respect, and commanding the esteem and 
gratitude of the community in which he lived, and the sincere 
love of a wide circle of friends, by a blameless, useful and hon- 
orable life, and by numerous deeds of charity and good will : 



25 

Iq memory of him we make this record of our sense of his 
merits, and of our loss; and, 

Resolve^ That we deplore the death of our distinguished 
friend and brother, the Hon. Solomon Foot, as a calamity to 
the Bar, the social and public interests of this community in 
which he long resided, to the State, and to the Nation. 

Resolved, That we eutertain great satisfaction and pride in his 
talents, attainments and distinguished success ; in his private 
worth and spotless character; and in the munificent spirit mani- 
fested by him in bestowing his valuable professional library for 
the benefit of his brethren. 

Resolved, That while we sincerely sympathize Avith the widow 
and relatives of the deceased in their distress, we rejoice in the 
consciousness that their highest consolation is in the history of 
his life, in his reputation without a blemish, and in the " hopes 
which spring from the grave of the upright man " 

Resolved, That as a further mark of respect for the memoiy 
of the deceased, the members of this bar. will attend the funeral 
in a body, and wear the accustomed badge of mourning. 

Resolved, Thit a copy of this memorial and resolutions be 
transmitted by the Clerk of this Court to the afiiicted widow of 
the deceased. 

The memorial and resolutions were supported in eloquent and 

feeling remarks by Hon. E. N. Briggs and Hon. "William T. 

Nichols. 

JUDGE KELLOGG's REMARKS. 

His Honer, Judge Kellogg, ordered the memorial and reso- 
lutious to be recorded, aud made the following remarks : 

We share with full hearts in the feeling which has prompted 
the motion for the adjournment of the court, made by the gen- 
tlemen of the Bar. The death of our distinguished Senator is 
a national loss, but here, in the town iu which he resided, and 
among the friends and professional associates with whom he was 
so long connected, it is felt as a shock which briugs to each of 
us the sense of a personal bereavement and sorrow. Senator 
Foot, during his whole professional aud public life, enjoyed iu 
the largest measure the respect and esteem of the people of his 
town, county and State, and was called to high and merited 
honors. We all recognize how wtll and worthily he fulfilled 
every public duty. The State conferred upon him the rare honor 
of a third election as its Senator. His last election to that office 



26 

by the unanimous vote of one branch of the Legislature, and by 
a vote nearly unanimous in the other branch, was the highest 
distinction which the State could confer upon its worthiest citi- 
zen. In this moment of our loss, we gratefully remember his 
largeness of heart, his generous nature, his warm and unselfish 
devotion to his friends, and the energy and firmness with which 
he adhered to, and pursued every conviction of duty. We share 
in the general sorrow which pervades all hearts in this commu- 
nity, and will cordially unite with the gentlemen of the Bar in 
any fitting expression of respect to the memory of our late asso- 
ciate and friend. 



FUNERAL SERVICES AT WASHINGTON. 

A special dispatch to the New York Times, dated Washington, 
March 29, says : 

" The funeral services over the remains of Senator Foot, in 

the Senate Chamber to-day, were of the most solemn, impressive 

and affecting character. Strong hearts were moved to tears, and 

weeping was almost universal during the touching recital of the 

noble Senator's beautiful religious experience, and his farewell 

moments with those he loved. Secretary StantOD was most 

deeply affected, and bowed his head in grief during the entire 

discourse, for the Senator had been his steadfast, long-tried, 

faithful friend. The President seemed also much affected, while 

Senator Fessenden, with whom Mr. Foot pas?ed a few moments 

of peculiarly affecting iutercoarse, was in tears throughout the 

services. The attendance was very large, and included all the 

distinguished public men of the Capitol, from the President 

through all the Departments ; the Supreme Court ; Diplomatic 

Corps ; Military Officers ; both Houses of Congress, and many 

other prominent persons. The history of the lamented Senator's 

sickness and death, his beautiful religious experience, and his 

sweet purity of character, as told by Dr. Sunderland, his friend 

and pastor, was a most touching revelation of the pure life of 

this American Senator and Statesman." 



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